...or anywhere else in the country for that matter, don't expect to see any teddies or any picnics. For today's the day the farmers are spreading their muck around. It is a dull and dismal day and the air is full of the scent of FYM to put it politely.
Everyone has been holding on for fine, dry weather. But the time is rapidly coming when cattle will have to come in as the fields are so wet. They will all wait until the last minute because Winter feed this year will be very expensive as there has not been enough dry weather to get on to the land to make a third cut of silage grass.
I have been down to the city of Ripon this morning to my hairdressers and all along the way the fields are full of the flying stuff as the giant spreaders go up and down. And as soon as you get off the main road (as I do on my way home) every farm lane is thick with great clods of the stuff. Still, my mother always said it was a good healthy smell and as I can't get away from it, what can't be cured must be endured as they say.
I am thinking about all our blogging friends on the Eastern seaboard of the United States (Elizabeth of the world examining works for example - she lives in Manhattan) and hoping that the forecasts of this enormous storm on its way are exaggerated. It must be awful living in a hurricane area. Makes a bit of farmyard muck seem small fry.